Chapter 71: Regarding the Past (7)
After emerging from that blind alley reeking of garbage and urine, Gwen said nothing and stubbornly hooked her seemingly slender yet surprisingly strong arm around Arthur's.
All the way, she ignored Arthur's several attempts to break free, forcibly dragging him back to that so-called "new home".
The moment Gwen stepped through the doorway, she finally fully understood what concept Arthur meant by that "shell".
How could this be called a home? It was completely just a half-built bare apartment.
Aside from the walls exuding a chilly scent of cement on all four sides, the entire room was so empty that not even a single echo could hide.
There wasn't even a piece of cardboard on the floor to step on.
The only piece of furniture was an old wooden cabinet standing in the corner with its door half-detached and covered in scratches.
Its condition looked as if it had been forcefully dug out of some free junk recycling yard.
Arthur slid down the doorframe and sat on the floor, panting, yet still wearing that nonchalant, hollow smile on his face.
He extended his uninjured hand and pointed somewhat helplessly at the tattered cabinet: "Um, on the very bottom layer of the cabinet, there's some medicine I bought when I passed by a discount store earlier. I really don't want to move, could you help me get it out and apply some medicine?"
Deep down in Gwen's heart, something inexplicably gave a fierce twist.
With a straight face, she walked to the corner without a word and pulled open the cabinet door, which let out a harsh, grating sound.
She rummaged inside to find a small bottle of iodine with a faded label and a box of nearly flattened band-aids, then walked back to Arthur's side and squatted down.
"Flatten your hand. Don't move around." Gwen's tone was stiff, sounding like she was issuing an irrefutable order.
She picked up a cotton swab, unscrewed the cap, took a deep breath, and began applying the medicinal liquid to his scratches with extreme gentleness.
That gentle motion made her look like a completely different person compared to her fierce stance when she yelled at him just now.
The moment the medicinal liquid touched his flesh, Arthurcouldn't help but hiss, sharply drawing in a breath of cold air.
Hearing him cry out in pain, Gwen's hand paused, her eyes staring fixedly at the rolled-back flesh, yet her mouth showed no mercy:
"Now you know it hurts? When you went head-to-head with half a broken brick against five or six punks all by yourself just now, why didn't you realize your skinny arms and legs would get cut? Do you really think you're an invulnerable monster?"
Arthur smiled bitterly and didn't answer, honestly letting her fuss over him.
After applying the medicine, Gwen threw the used cotton swab aside and was about to tear open a band-aid when her gaze stopped on those wounds.
She leaned in a bit closer, somewhat surprised to find that those cuts, which had looked somewhat horrifying earlier, had basically stopped bleeding altogether.
The edges of the wounds even began to show signs of drying up and healing.
She was stunned for a moment, raised her eyes to appraise the young man in front of her who didn't look sturdy by any stretch of the imagination, and couldn't help praising:
"Your physical fitness is actually quite good. Logically speaking, these wounds would at least need to be bandaged to stop the bleeding, yet minor injuries like this heal so quickly on you."
Arthur lowered his head along with her gaze to look at his own arm.
He slightly rotated his shoulder, confirming that the pain had mostly subsided and didn't affect joint movement at all.
He directly used the hand that had just been medicated to prop himself up from the ground, casually patted the dust off his trouser legs, and spoke in a tone as flat as if nothing had happened just now: "You got hurt today, are you still going to work? Nonsense, of course I have to work, why wouldn't I?"
He looked at the sky outside that had completely darkened, tidying his torn T-shirt as he walked out:
"If I work one day less, I'll have one day less of wages. The rent is already paid, and if I skip work today, I won't even know where to find money for dinner."
Hearing this, Gwen abruptly stood up and unceremoniously rolled her eyes at him:
"You, you really want money more than your life! Do you have to torture yourself until you fall apart before you'll be satisfied, huh?"
She irritably grabbed a handful of her pinkish-gold short hair, but looking at Arthur's impervious back as he insisted on going out, she gritted her teeth and ultimately compromised.
She walked over quickly, yanked the door open, blocked Arthur's path, raised her head, and issued her final ultimatum:
"Let's go. I'll send you to work. But you listen to me well: if you get there and really can't do the work anymore, immediately go find someone to ask for leave. Do you understand?"
Facing this indisputable posture, Arthur could only nod vigorously.
Before long, the two of them arrived one after another at the bustling night-shift construction site.
The construction site was filled with flying dust and the roaring sounds of machinery, and searchlights cast long shadows for everyone.
A large group of workers wearing safety helmets were methodically doing their heavy work near the piles of sand, stones, and steel bars.
Not long after the two walked through the entrance of the construction site, a foreman wearing a dirty reflective vest and holding a clipboard noticed them.
The foreman frowned, walked over in strides, and opened his mouth with a string of unsparing accusations:
"Arthur! Look at what time it is! You're late by a good half-hour today! Is there some unavoidable reason? If there isn't a legitimate excuse, then I'll have to dock your wages today!"
Arthur slightly arched his back, just wanting to admit a mistake and yield to gloss this over, but Gwen beside him completely couldn't hold back anymore.
Being the first to be displeased, she took a step forward, directly shielding Arthur behind her, raised her head to look straight at the rugged, rough-hewn man who was a whole head taller than her, and snapped back in a crisp voice:
"Hello. Arthur was surrounded and robbed by a few punks on his way here just now, and he got a bit hurt trying to break away. We went to treat the wounds and that's why we're late. He encountered trouble, he didn't skip work on purpose, please forgive him."
This uncompromising remark left the foreman stunned in place.
Only then did he have the time to carefully glance at the girl in front of him wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt, whose cold demeanor didn't look like an ordinary high school girl at all.
Looking at the other person's gaze, which resembled a little leopard guarding its food, the anger and impatience on the foreman's face miraculously receded, and his expression softened a bit as well.
"Oh yo?" The foreman pinched his chin, his gaze shifting back and forth between Gwen and Arthur behind her, and suddenly blurted out, "Is this your girlfriend?"
As soon as these words came out, Gwen, who had just been sticking up for Arthur, and Arthur, who was hiding in the back, froze on the spot.
Gwen's originally cool and cold complexion instantly flushed with a clear blush as if scorched by fire.
Her lips moved, and she just opened her mouth to say something to refute this misunderstanding.
But the foreman didn't give her this chance at all, directly waving a hand and hijacking the conversation:
"Alright, alright. The person is quite nice, and even knows how to care for you. Now hurry and go to the back to change clothes and get to work. For the sake of the lass, I won't count you as late today."
Hearing that his wages wouldn't be docked, Arthur nodded repeatedly, said thank you, and immediately turned around and left without hesitation.
He ran toward the large truck parked in the distance loaded with materials, skillfully put on his gloves, and began helping the others unload the truck, hoisting heavy large bags of gray material.
Gwen stood in place, the blush on her ears still not fully faded.
She watched Arthur run off, her heart still somewhat minding that sudden "Is this your girlfriend" from just now.
She felt it necessary to correct this biased perception.
She turned back around, looked at the foreman who was lowering his head to write, and spoke again: "Um, hello. Actually, I want to explain, I really don't..."
"You're Arthur's girlfriend, right."
Before she could smooth out those remaining words, the foreman directly tapped the notebook with the hand holding his pen, once again interrupting her words with extreme naturalness, his tone carrying a bit of an elder's appreciation for a junior:
"The little girl has good taste. Arthur is truly a great guy. Ever since this kid came to work for me more than half a month ago, he has never held our team back."
The foreman simply closed the clipboard, pulled matches from his pocket while rubbing his chin to continue, obviously having opened his chatterbox:
"This person has a sort of bizarre edge to him. Or rather, hidden deep in his bones is a stubborn, tenacious drive that never lets go. The kind where, as long as the work doesn't crush him to death, he will definitely work himself to death doing it."
The foreman lit his cigarette and pointed at the emaciated figure in the distance who was flinging a sandbag onto his shoulder:
"Look at how nimble he is now. When he first came over, seeing his small build, I really didn't dare take him. After working for a little while, he'd be exhausted to the point of turning pale, standing aside and panting for half a day."
"At that time, I was even thinking whether to directly find an excuse to fire him in a couple of days, so as not to let him overexert himself to the point of disaster on my construction site. But observing him over this period, his adaptability is absurdly strong."
The foreman exhaled a cloud of murky smoke, a hint of incredulity leaking into his tone:
"After he worked for a longer time, I found that the frequency of him stopping in the middle to rest became lower and lower. By these past few days, sometimes even after carrying several bags of cement in a row, he would only sit on the side to recover for a tiny moment, take a sip of water, and immediately stand up to continue working with everyone."
Gwen listened quietly. She turned her head and looked at the tireless figure under the searchlight, her heart slightly shaken.
Perhaps just as the foreman said, this might be possibility itself. The unique possibility belonging to Arthur, who fought alone in this unfamiliar city and never gave up no matter how many times he was knocked down.
Suppressing the inexplicable sorrow in her heart, Gwensuddenly turned her head and said very earnestly to the foreman:
"Um, mister, thank you for agreeing to keep Arthur and letting him have a job here."
The uncle spat out a tobacco flake from his mouth and waved his hand dismissively:
"Hey, what's there to thank or not thank. This is a job undertaken with the government, and my place just lacks manual laborers. As long as someone is willing to come and put in hard labor, I'll take them. As for money, the rules are all the same. For those who work well and put in more effort, I give them more; for those who drag their feet, I dock them; if it really doesn't work out, I just settle accounts and tell them to leave. Everyone is just trying to make money, how could there be any extra special care on my end."
Finishing this plainspoken speech, the uncle casually threw his cigarette butt on the ground, stamped it out, and then shouted at the top of his lungs toward the direction of the distant truck:
"Arthur! You kid, stop carrying bags under the truck bed for now! We have enough manpower over here! Circle around immediately and go help move bricks!"
Arthur, who was sweating profusely, heard the foreman's command, immediately tossed the empty sack on his shoulder, and without a single complaint, lengthened his voice to give a crisp, resounding reply:
"You got it, boss!"
After saying that, he immediately strode off, walking toward the workers building the wall on the other side of the construction site, and began skillfully lifting stacks of bricks.
Gwen stood not far away, gazing at Arthur, who remained high-spirited even covered in dust and dirt, her lips unable to suppress a faint smile.
In that chaotic and noisy construction site, she suddenly felt that deep within her own heart, a certain special feeling she had always deliberately ignored was growing deeper at this moment, impossible to hold back.
After safely escorting Arthur to the construction site and confirming that he had started working, Gwen left that noisy place under the cover of night.
After several turns, Gwen finally returned to her own humble dwelling.
The moment she closed the room door, her persistently tense back immediately slumped.
Her whole body, like an out-of-control frisbee, threw itself straight onto the single bed.
Her two hands tightly grabbed the edge of the quilt, and with a sudden heave, she covered her entire body and head inside it.
Inside the dark covers, a pair of legs flailed wildly against the mattress, muffled sounds of venting exploding within the cramped space.
"Ah!! Why! Why is this! What on earth is this all about!"
She rolled around frantically inside the quilt, her voice of vexation coming through the comforter sounding somewhat muffled and indistinct:
"Why... when that foreman opened his mouth to say I was his girlfriend... I actually didn't interrupt him the very first second! What was I feeling guilty about at the time? In my subconscious... why on earth didn't I want to refute it!"
A corner of the quilt was violently flipped open. Gwenabruptly straightened her body up from the bed, panting heavily, her usually neatly combed pinkish-gold short hair currently in a mess like a cat's nest with ruffled fur.
She widened those azure-blue eyes, her heart beating wildly beneath her hoodie, getting heavier with each thud.
"Could I really... towards him..."
Just as the image of Arthur smiling at her in that empty room flashed through her mind, her reason instantly sounded the highest level of alarm.
"No, no, it can never be like this!"
She desperately shook her head, pressing her hands hard against her burning cheeks, as if forcibly hypnotizing herself:
"I just feel... I'm a terrible person, and I'm the one who messed up his life that wasn't easy to begin with. I just feel I owe him, and coming to find him was purely out of sympathy! Yes! That's right! We are just the most ordinary kind of friends! Nothing more!"
She rolled over, covering her eyes with her palms once again, but the bashful vexation leaking between her fingers and the irrepressible palpitations had long since silently trapped this girl who was always saying one thing and meaning another.
Chapter 72: Regarding the Past (8) A Fully Clarified Heart
Ever since that night in the bare-bones apartment when she harshly finished treating his wounds, Gwen suddenly felt that the invisible boundary that had always restricted her own actions had been broken.
In the several days following that, Gwen directly abandoned her previous practice of hiding on the roofs of opposite buildings or in dark alleys to monitor him secretly.
Since she had already figured out the address of this lousy house, she simply stepped right out into the open.
Every day after school let out, during the gap of time before Arthur went to the construction site for his night shift, she would begin to appear punctually downstairs from this dilapidated apartment building.
Sometimes, just as Arthur pushed open that rickety door, he would see a pink-blonde girl wearing an oversized hoodie sitting on the hallway steps, boredly toying with a cola can she had picked up from somewhere.
After meeting up, Arthur wouldn't chase her away either. The two of them would casually chat for a bit inside that empty room or leaning side by side against the brick wall downstairs.
The topics they chatted about weren't high-end at all. Arthur would casually complain that the wheels of the construction site carts were a bit stuck, and Gwen would casually mock him from the side, saying that his scrawny figure couldn't push heavy objects anyway.
When the sky grew completely dark and it was time for Arthur to go to the construction site, Gwen wouldn't even look for an excuse anymore.
She would directly tuck her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie, following closely beside Arthur without saying a word as she accompanied him through the walk to the construction site.
Arriving outside the metal fencing of the construction site, listening to the rumbling sound of machinery coming from inside, Gwen would stop in her tracks, pull her hands out of her pockets, and wave very naturally at the retreating figure who was getting ready to run and grab a hard hat as a farewell.
This strange tacit understanding formed between the two of them steadily continued for two or three days.
That evening, at the same meeting time, shortly after the two of them walked down the long street, Arthur suddenly stopped in his tracks.
He turned around to look at Gwen walking beside him, and very seriously opened his mouth to make a request:
"Gwen, today I'm not going to eat over at the construction site. Taking advantage of the fact that we still have some time, I'll treat you to a meal."
Hearing this, Gwen stopped and directly wrinkled her nose, her tone full of incomprehension and helplessness:
"What on earth are you fussing over this meal for? How much money do you even make carrying cement all day at that construction site? Can't you keep the meal money to buy more injury medicine and meat to properly nourish your own body? You just have to constantly think about treating guests."
Faced with Gwen's somewhat aggressive complaints, Arthur did not back down. He simply spread his hands and tossed out an extremely cliché yet irrefutable reason:
"That won't do. This matter was something I promised you the day we met. If this meal keeps getting dragged out without being treated, wouldn't that make me someone who goes back on their word and breaks promises? No matter where you go, that doesn't make sense."
Gwen stared at him for a long time, discovering that the serious expression on his face wasn't polite pretense at all. In the end, she could only let out a long, helpless laugh and compromised:
"Fine then. But I have to make it clear first, I certainly don't want you to spend a fortune going to some expensive place just for this forced meal of yours. After all, how much dust do you eat every day at the construction site just to exchange for that little bit of living expense? If others don't know, could I possibly not know?"
Hearing Gwen finally relent, Arthur nodded vigorously, the forced smile on his face instantly transforming into a somewhat smug grin:
"Of course, I wouldn't go trying to put on airs like that. I've already thought of the place long ago. Right on the path to the construction site, there's a small noodle shop around, and I see that their pasta portions there are very generous."
"I heard those uncles at the construction site say that everyone who has eaten there says not only does it taste pretty good, but the prices are also very affordable. To be honest, I've passed by that shop several times, but I've always coveted it without having the heart to go in and try it, just thinking about saving my stomach to treat you to this meal."
Looking at his stance where he had already planned out the route, Gwen very simply nodded and replied: "Alright then, I'll listen to your arrangements."
Not walking much further, the two of them arrived at the Italian noodle shop Arthur had mentioned.
The noodle shop was located at the street-facing corner, with a very narrow storefront. When pushing the door open, the bell on the doorframe emitted a muffled sound.
Inside the shop, there were altogether only four or five small tables covered with tablecloths.
The air was filled with a strong mixed smell of ketchup and coarse spices. Arthur familiarly walked up to the counter and ordered two servings of the cheapest meat sauce pasta.
He pulled open the chair beside a small table against the wall and sat down.
Gwen followed behind him and walked over. Standing by the table, Gwen subconsciously glanced at the empty chair closely pressed right next to Arthur.
Her fingers subconsciously scratched twice at the hem of her hoodie, and the leg she had already intended to step past paused in mid-air for half a second.
She thought about it for a moment, feeling that if the two of them were to squeeze shoulder-to-shoulder on this side's long bench like that, that kind of distance would inevitably bring about some physical friction that she still felt unable to handle right now.
That trace of lingering awkwardness ultimately made her shrink back. She walked half a circle more around the table, pulled open the chair directly opposite Arthur, and sat down steadily.
Not long after, a waiter walked over holding two white plates printed with faded patterns, heavily placing two servings of steaming hot pasta onto the table.
The two picked up their forks and began to eat noodles. Since the two of them had known each other, this was the first time they were eating their first meal together in such a leisure environment without any urges, without needing to immediately rush back to the convenience store to cashier, and without needing to swallow dry rations before the next cement truck entered the site.
As the thick noodles with the sour taste of tomatoes rolled into their mouths, the atmosphere between the two of them obviously began to change.
Arthur's complexion during this recent period was obviously much better than when they first met at the convenience store.
After the sense of weakness that he could collapse at any time faded away, the whole person became more and more relaxed in front of Gwen.
Coupled with the two's unreserved companionship over the past few days, that vague estrangement had long since been worn away.
Arthur finished off a small half-plate of noodles in one breath.
He put down the fork in his hand, pulled out a cheap tissue, and vigorously wiped the grease stains from his mouth.
He leaned against the slightly paint-peeling wooden chair backrest, his gaze very casually crossing over the pepper shaker on the table, landing on Gwen's face as she rolled noodles in small bites.
Perhaps the ordinary worldly atmosphere around him gave him the confidence to speak, so he suddenly opened his mouth using the joking tone he usually used when bantering on the steps:
"Gwen, there's something I've always wanted to ask you."
Hearing him calling her, Gwen raised her head to look at him without replying.
Arthur leaned his body forward a bit, propping his elbows on the edge of the table opposite Gwen, his tone carrying a bit of cheeky banter:
"Tell me, you run over to wait for me right on time every day these days, and you insist on sending me directly to the construction site entrance like an adult... Why on earth are you doing all this?"
"Is it because you still feel guilty in your heart for accidentally implicating me and almost causing me to lose my job after provoking those punks last time... Or is it because..."
Arthur dragged out a long note, raised his eyebrows, and continued speaking: "Actually, do you kind of like me?"
This sentence, which was originally just an out-of-tune joke spoken casually taking advantage of the dinner party atmosphere, falling into Gwen's ears, instead triggered an unheralded earthquake.
Gwen's wrist paused. The fork that was just preparing to send the noodles stained with red sauce into her mouth directly froze in mid-air.
Hearing this question, she was directly stunned in place, her eyes staring at the plate of noodles in front of her. After a brief blankness in her brain, it began to spin wildly out of control.
Why on earth did she run to the door of that drafty, broken house to wait for him every day, and even punctually send him to the construction site like clockwork? What kind of thought process was this anyway?
She tried to find a justifiable reason for herself. A sense of guilt definitely existed.
If she hadn't been meddlesome in the alley and provoked those social dregs, Arthur probably wouldn't have been dragged into that desperate situation of fighting with bricks.
If she hadn't suddenly proposed joining the job at the convenience store, Arthur wouldn't have been fired by the boss so early.
But in the next second after these few reasons popped up, she fiercely shattered them deep in her heart.
"Would mere guilt drive someone to go to such lengths?"
"Would someone finish school every day, do nothing else, and run over to squat in a place without even a stool just to catch the cold wind?"
She began to retrace the days leading up to this moment.
That night at the construction site, when that rough foreman in a reflective vest pointed at her and casually dropped the line, "This is your girlfriend."
Aside from feeling a rush of heat straight to her head, from the depths of her churning heart, there wasn't even a shred of intense aversion.
What remained was only a flustered sense of a guilty conscience.
Going further back, there were those recent days when she would punctually show up at his doorstep just to chat about nothing.
And before that, to make sure he didn't die while working odd jobs, she spent every night like a true stalker, lying prone on the pitch-black roof opposite, peeking at him as he carried a bucket of water all by himself.
Her vision lost focus as scenes from her memories continuously flashed back.
Pushing further and further back, she retreated all the way until she returned to that late-night convenience store in the heavy rain.
She returned to the day when Arthur's eyes gleamed as he said, "The future is full of uncertainty."
No matter how hard life was, no matter how battered she was by the beatings of reality, he could still flash that unbroken smile.
[Arthur's POV: Damn it, I'm purely stubborn and refuse to lose, thinking that sooner or later I'll get transmigrator perks.]
Eroded day by day through these little interactions, inside this small eatery full of worldly warmth,
Gwen felt as if she had suddenly touched the sole main thread amidst a tangled mess.
Looking at the young man casually leaning back in his chair—whose eyes radiated a pure and clean clarity even when he was joking—the stubborn knot that had been plaguing her heart completely unraveled.
She finally seemed to know her own answer.
Her hand holding the fork slowly lowered back to the edge of the plate.
Gwen raised her head, meeting Arthur's gaze as he waited for her to snap back or refute him.
On that face which usually wore a cool, aloof expression, the ice suddenly melted away.
Instead of being stubborn or sarcastic as she usually was, she abruptly curved the corners of her lips into a smile completely devoid of any defense—a sweetness that was almost cloying.
Looking at Arthur, in a steady tone that sounded entirely serious, she suddenly blurted out, "If it really is liking, then can I?"
As soon as those words left her mouth, Arthur—who had been fully prepared to watch Gwen angrily snap back—was instantly struck as if by lightning, freezing stiff on the spot.
With his mouth slightly agape, his mind went completely blank for several full seconds before he could snap out of it.
This completely blew past his expectations; it was like casually throwing a tiny pop-snap firecracker on the street, only for the other person to pull the pin of a grenade and shove it right back into his arms.
By the time Arthur's brain finally digested the true meaning behind those four words, "can I,"
his reaction was nothing short of monumental.
[Arthur: Holy crap! For real? I was just making a casual joke! Don't mess around, sis! With my current status, dating you is practically ruining your life!]
His body, which had been relaxing against the back of the chair, snapped up as if he'd been lashed with a whip.
He didn't dare glance back at Gwen's terrifyingly bright eyes across the table.
Suddenly acting like a madman, Arthur sped up his movements, grabbed his fork, and devoured the remaining half-plate of noodles like a whirlwind, stuffing them all into his mouth in a flurry.
He didn't even bother to chew, forcefully swallowing the noodles down his throat, before frantically grabbing a napkin and wiping his mouth haphazardly a couple of times.
"Uh... you know." Arthur kept his eyes fixed on the corner of the table, his tongue completely tied.
"Sorry! I... it's about time for me to go to work, I'm heading out first!"
[Arthur's POV: Run! Run right now! If I don't run, I'm going to dig my own grave! How could someone like me be a match for her right now?! No matter what, I have to wait until I get my transmigrator perks! Let's wait until I'm sure I can be badass in the future!]
[Arthur's POV: Damn it! I am a dignified transmigrator! How did I end up in such a pathetic state?! But the most important thing right now is! Time to make tracks! Run!]
With that, he swiftly fished out a few crumpled, rolled-up bills from his pocket and slammed them heavily onto the table.
Then he turned and shoved his chair back, clumsily crashed through the noodle shop's glass door, and bolted headfirst into the outside night without looking back.
The noodle shop door swung wildly from side to side under Arthur's impact, sending the bell chiming in chaotic clatter.
Gwen sat quietly in her chair opposite, watching Arthur's frantic, life-or-fleeing figure outside the window, not even having time to utter a word to make him stay.
Seeing him run off into the distance, Gwen lowered her head. She made no sound, but an irrepressible smile flickered across her eyes and brows.
She picked up her fork once more, leisurely continuing to eat the leftover pasta on her plate.
Yet in truth, by this point, she couldn't even taste what the tomato pasta in her mouth was like anymore.
Her mind was entirely filled with the lingering echo of the words she had just blurted out.
As she shoved noodles into her mouth, she endlessly scolded herself inwardly.
Was it right for her to suddenly drop those words?
Was the reliance and urge to grow close blooming inside her heart truly what they called liking?
After finishing up the two-person portion of pasta she had paid for, Gwen headed straight home that night.
That night, Spider-Woman—who always considered protecting the weak her sworn duty—was so consumed by this tangled ball of yarn in her mind that she completely forgot to suit up and head into the dark corners of New York for her nightly routine of vigilantism.
Keeping her outer clothes on, she sprawled out flat on the narrow single bed in her rented apartment.
The room was pitch black, with car headlights from the street occasionally sweeping across the ceiling from outside the window.
Gwen just lay there with wide eyes staring at the mottled plaster on the ceiling, her mind holding an endless debate.
She repeatedly grilled herself for the answer to this question.
Just like that, the streetlights outside flickered on and off, the sky shifted from pitch black to deep blue, and gradually turned pale at dawn.
An entire long night slipped away silently just like that.
Had it not been for her exceptionally robust and healthy physical foundation supporting her,
if any ordinary girl her age had forced herself to stay up all night pondering matters like this, she would definitely wake up the next morning with huge dark circles under her eyes and zero energy for classes.
Yet this night of insomnia left no fatigue on Gwen's face.
Along with the muffled rumble of the first garbage truck making its rounds at dawn, after a whole agonizing night of rational deduction, she finally found the undeniable answer deep within her heart.
That's right—she truly liked him.
When she first realized it, the feeling might have been extremely faint, so faint that it was easily confused with gratitude and guilt.
But now she was infinitely certain: that daily, uncontrollable impulse to see him was undeniably the feeling of liking him.
On this single bed as the sky grew bright, in this city that didn't belong to her original World, Gwen finally fully acknowledged and accepted her own heart.
Because after crossing over to this place devoid of any sense of belonging, he was the only person she knew, the only one who could barely be considered familiar.
It was precisely because of his figure—one that refused to surrender even in dire straits—that her paralyzing sense of losing the entire World was held slightly at bay, allowing her to find a foothold to keep forging ahead in this World.
It was precisely because of the smile he could still flash in the face of a miserable life that she managed to persevere through those most desperate times.
It was precisely because she wanted to see him, wanted to hear his messy complaints, that she chose to stake out the doorway of that run-down building every single night without fail.
All of this, every single bit of it, was entirely because she liked him.
That was why so many logical 'becauses' naturally followed afterward.
She finally understood it all completely.
Chapter 73: About the Past (9)
Scattered across the plastic cutting board by the sink were a few slices of tomatoes cut into uneven sizes, and beside them lay an opened bag of cheap Italian pasta.
Time moved forward to that evening.
After a whole night of intense introspection the previous night, Gwen, having thoroughly recognized her own feelings, unprecedentedly fired up her stove in her rather lifeless rented apartment.
She didn't cook very often, so her movements appeared unpracticed and flustered.
When she scooped out the pasta, she failed to control the heat properly, making it a bit too soft, and she casually poured in some freshly simmered sauce whose color even looked a bit dark, mixing it all together.
This certainly couldn't be considered a dinner with an appealing presentation, but when pouring them into that cheap, pinkish plastic insulated lunch box, Gwen screwed the lid on very tightly.
This box of ordinary-looking pasta was her first trump card in transforming her feelings from hiding away to taking the initiative.
She threw on her usual oversized dark grey hooded sweatshirt, zipped the zipper casually halfway up, stepped into that pair of black and white Converse canvas shoes that had accompanied her for years, and headed straight out the door carrying the insulated box.
Following the familiar route she had walked for several days, Gwen stepped on the raised dust and walked into that noisy construction site.
Everywhere in the construction site were roaring cement mixers and bags of cement piled up like small mountains.
She tucked her hands into her sweatshirt pockets, still carrying the pink box in her hand, and swept her gaze back and forth among the crowd of people wearing yellow hard hats and reflective vests, trying hard to distinguish that thin, familiar back.
This looking-around behavior quickly drew the attention of others.
The dark and sturdy foreman who always smoked shoddy cigarettes in this area walked over, stopped in front of Gwen, blew a smoke ring, and teased in that rough voice accustomed to lower-class life,
"How is it, here to bring dinner to your little boyfriend again?"
Hearing the word "boyfriend," Gwen's eyebrows twitched subconsciously.
According to her previous spiky and arrogant temper, she would definitely have used the coldest tone to retort to this foreman immediately.
But with the words at the tip of her tongue, she suddenly remembered the things she had figured out facing the ceiling last night.
Didn't she go through so much trouble to clumsily cook the noodles just to pursue that guy?
Since she had already decided to take this step, what else was there to deny?
She forcibly suppressed that bit of conditional-reflex awkwardness, openly withdrew her gaze, met the foreman's gaze, and nodded firmly, admitting it without any ambiguity,
"Yes, I'm just here to deliver food to him. Could you please tell me where he is?"
This reaction of completely not refuting actually left the foreman stunned for a moment.
He looked at this cool girl with pink-gold hair and couldn't help laughing out,
"I knew it, the two of you deliver things back and forth punctually every day like clockwork, how could you possibly not be a little couple? Look, today you've even brought a lunch box directly."
Finishing his sentence, the foreman pointed his finger holding the cigarette toward a remote scaffolding area on the right,
"Go over there; they lacked people to move bricks over there today, so he was transferred to lay bricks. Not to mention, even though that kid looks like he'd blow over in the wind, he works pretty fast."
Gwen glanced in that direction, simply said thank you, and immediately quickened her pace to walk across the bumpy muddy ground toward over there.
After bypassing two piles of tall red bricks, she quickly saw Arthur bending over to carry stones in an inconspicuous corner.
Because of the hot weather and heavy physical labor, the short-sleeve shirt on Arthur that had long been washed to a whitish color was soaked thoroughly by sweat, clinging tightly to his back.
Gwen stood not far away, across a distance of several meters, and lowered her voice to shout: "Yu!"
Hearing this familiar voice, Arthur's body stiffened, and his heart panicked without any warning.
He hurriedly dropped the bricks and turned his head, immediately seeing Gwen standing in the afterglow of the setting sun.
Her whole person still had that usual cool outfit, but in her arms she incongruously held a pink, tender insulated box, and those azure-blue eyes were staring unblinkingly at him.
Gwen took two steps forward, handed the box in her hand forward a bit, with a tone carrying a bit of forced nonchalance,
"I see it's getting late. You are so stubborn and love saving money so much, your dinner was definitely planning to make do with some cheap bread and not eaten well. I just brought you some pasta along the way."
Arthur looked at that box, his Adam's apple rolling up and down as he swallowed his saliva.
If it were something else, he might have taken it, but this—this was a solid meal specially prepared by a girl.
Such overly obvious domestic care made him feel a strong sense of retreat; he shook his head fiercely like a conditioned reflex and immediately stepped back half a step to refuse,
"No, thank you. The construction site provides dinner at night, and I ate quite full; I've already eaten."
Facing this rejection that gave zero face, Gwen was just about to wrinkle her nose and get angry when that loud-mouthed foreman happened to patrol over to this side.
The thick voice chimed in inappropriately yet just at the right moment,
"Arthur! At least it's your girlfriend who ran over specially to deliver her good intentions, don't dawdle here, hurry up and take it to eat a couple of bites! Otherwise, for this bit of time, I will deduct your wages for slacking off!"
Hearing the three words "deduct wages," the insistence on keeping a distance on Arthur's face instantly collapsed, turning into an aggrieved expression of "how can there be such a thing."
Facing this direct threat pressing on the survival line, plus the foreman standing behind with arms crossed and staring, he was completely out of options.
Arthur could only make a bitter face, and reluctantly jumped down from the low wall head that hadn't been finished yet.
He patted the brick ash off his hands, walked in front of Gwen, and took the insulated box that was still somewhat scalding to the touch.
After unscrewing the lid, inside were exposed those slightly mushy pastas thoroughly dyed by the sauce, and beside them thoughtfully lay a pair of unopened disposable chopsticks.
In front of both of them, Arthur lowered his head with a bit of embarrassment and said in a low voice: "Thank you."
Then he leaned against the corner of the wall, and directly stuffed all those pastas that were obviously overcooked into his mouth in big mouthfuls with the chopsticks.
In less than a minute, the whole box of noodles was completely eaten clean by him.
Watching him wipe away the last bit of ketchup stained at the corner of his mouth, Gwen standing aside couldn't help stretching the corners of her mouth, her consistently sharp eyes curving happily into pretty crescent shapes.
After finishing eating, Arthur handed back the empty box, cleared his throat somewhat unaccustomedly and said: "Um... I'm done eating. The dust is too big here, why don't you go back first?"
Gwen, who had managed to deliver the things, was just about to take advantage of the good atmosphere and say those words she had prepared long ago like "I'll sit here and accompany you until you finish work."
But that dutiful foreman interrupted once again,
"Sorry, little girl, don't dawdle here. After all, this is a construction site, everywhere there are steel frames, quite dangerous. If you've delivered the things and seen him finish eating, hurry up and leave, don't delay the work."
This completely faultless urging to leave made Gwenforcefully swallow back the words in her mouth.
Her shoulders visibly slumped a bit, carrying an obvious sense of loss in her heart.
But considering that this uncle helped press Arthur into eating his noodles just now, she didn't lose her temper, but simply waved goodbye to Arthur, hugged the empty insulated box, and turned around to leave along the original path.
Starting from that less-than-perfect pasta meal that day, Gwen completely solidified the momentum of this long-term campaign.
She no longer found those clumsy excuses for herself like "just passing by" or "afraid he'll die with no one to collect his body."
Every night, as long as no major situation arose, she would punctually go to the construction site to punch in and deliver food, bringing various simple homemade foods or a few store-bought nutritious sandwiches.
During the day, as long as Mary Jane's band had no rehearsal arrangements, or when the coursework on the school side was relatively relaxed, she would directly run over to find Arthur.
This unreserved closeness caused an observable change in the mode of getting along between the two.
Walking every day along the dusty streets or dilapidated alleys, Gwen no longer walked with a half-meter distance like before.
Her position drew closer bit by bit with each day's meeting.
Her shoulders occasionally brushed against his washed-soft cuffs, her footprints stepped on the brick gaps he had just walked past, that distance was so close that as long as she was willing, she could directly lean into the other's arms at any time.
These ordinary and mundane days, without having to walk on eggshells to deal with various mutated monsters, flowed quietly.
Until one evening.
That afternoon, because Mary Jane had a temporary personal matter, the band's rehearsal was announced canceled.
Gwen, who had just finished school, didn't even return to her rented apartment to change clothes, and with her schoolbag on her back, anxiously began rushing along the street toward the direction where Arthur lived.
AI Model: deepseek-v4-flash
Walking halfway down a shabby commercial street, they passed a black internet café that didn't require any identity verification and allowed entry as long as you gave some pocket change.
Gwen, whose mind was full of planning what to talk about when they met, looked up at the entrance and happened to see Arthur walking out the glass door of the internet café.
Arthur at this moment was completely unlike his previous lifeless appearance, crushed by the weight of life.
He held an old smartphone with a cracked screen in his hand, and his face wore an unmistakable, obvious excitement.
The moment Gwen recognized the figure, she quickly ran over and habitually reached out to grab his sleeve, which was a bit short because his clothes were a size too small, her voice carrying the lightness of an unexpected encounter.
"Yu! What a coincidence, running into you in this shabby place."
Arthur, suddenly tugged by the sleeve, was startled. Seeing it was Gwen, a flicker of discomfort passed over his face.
Such an intimate contact in the middle of the street made him feel quite uneasy.
He didn't respond, but quietly twisted his wrist, calmly pulling his hand out from between her fingers, shaking off Gwen's grip.
Seeing her empty palm, Gwen's eyes involuntarily showed a hint of barely concealed disappointment.
But this frustration lasted only a second; her heart, fully immersed in love, immediately adjusted her mood.
She wasn't angry; instead, she proactively leaned closer to Arthur, looked up at his expression, and asked,
"I saw you looking happy from afar. Did something happen? Why are you so happy?"
Arthur reined in his somewhat overt emotions, put his phone back in his pocket, and casually explained as they walked side by side,
"Actually, it's nothing major. The construction site boss just sent me a message saying the work on the brick wall area will be finished ahead of schedule soon."
"He also said that when it's finished and accounted, besides the basic wages that have been held up, they'll give each worker additional bonuses and even extra benefits."
At this point, Arthur paused, his tone becoming very certain: "For a worker like me who works continuously almost every day, risking my life, and with the most hours, the amount I'll get will definitely not be small."
Hearing this news that would allow them to catch a breath from the survival line, Gwen's disappointment instantly vanished, and she wholeheartedly felt happy for him.
She stopped, turned to look straight at him, and directly made a proposal:
"We have to celebrate! Yu, come to my place. I'll buy some good stuff and cook you a proper meal. From the way you just came out of that black internet café, you probably haven't even had a sip of water tonight, right?"
This sudden invitation to move the venue to her private rented apartment left Arthur speechless.
His gaze wandered over the surrounding old buildings, then he shook his head slightly, preparing to refuse as per his original intention to keep his distance.
"Well... forget it, I'm a bit tired today, actually I—"
"Oh come on!" Before Arthur could even finish half his sentence, Gwen, standing beside him, gave him no room for negotiation at all.
The rock girl, usually cool and aloof in front of others, directly grabbed Arthur's arm with both hands, using her superhuman strength to drag him like a sandbag towards her rented apartment.
Arthur tried to struggle, but found that her seemingly slender arms were incredibly strong. Standing on the rough concrete floor, he couldn't pull away from her at all.
Seeing Arthur's helpless, 'what the hell' expression, Gwenturned her head, wrinkled her nose, and said with a playful yet undeniable bossiness:
"Stop struggling! This is an official notice, not a discussion. Let's go!"
Under Gwen's absolute physical suppression, the unresisting Arthur was half-dragged, half-pulled all the way into the rented apartment in the old building.
The two sat facing each other at a modest dining table, finishing the dinner that Gwen had hastily made with the extra meat she bought today.
After eating and drinking, Arthur leaned back on the somewhat old sofa, his gaze naturally sweeping over the room, which, though cluttered, clearly showed signs of single living.
Looking at the empty entrance and the sink with no other toiletries, he casually voiced the doubt in his mind.
"Gwen, I've been here for a while, but I haven't seen any other family members. Are you always alone?"
The moment the question left his lips, it was like an invisible needle pricking the deepest part of Gwen's heart.
The cruel reality of being cut off from her original World by crossing dimensions and losing her loving father resurfaced.
For that second, her blue eyes welled up with a very obvious sense of desolation and helplessness. In this unfamiliar Universe, she was nothing but a homeless orphan without any relatives.
But Gwen didn't want to use this heavy past to gain sympathy, nor did she want to ruin the hard-won lightness of the evening.
That momentary loneliness was quickly suppressed by her tsundere habit. In less than two seconds, she had composed her stung emotions.
She lifted her chin, like a spoiled rich girl, and spoke in a deliberately casual tone that concealed her pain:
"Other family members? Hmph, my dad is the Police in charge of this area. With his job, once he goes out on a call, he never knows when he'll be back; there's no set time."
To prevent Arthur from probing into the loopholes in her story, the mischievous thought of a young girl suddenly surfaced from the underlying sadness.
Gwen looked at Arthur, who was listening intently, a glint of mischief in her eyes, and added in a low, ghostly voice:
"And I advise you to be careful. My dad is known for protecting his only daughter. If he found out that I actually like a poor boy like you... his first thought would definitely be to pull out his Police gun from its holster and shoot you dead, then slowly investigate other details."
The shock effect of these words completely exceeded Gwen's expectations.
Arthur, who was sitting on the sofa, immediately felt his scalp tingle as he thought of the notoriously direct and rough United States Police.
He jumped up as if scalded, and without a word, dashed towards the door, terrified that his Police father-in-law might put a gun to his head the next second.
"Well! It's late, I'm going back!" Arthur said without even turning his head.
As Arthur, sweating profusely, pulled the door handle and was about to escape from this apartment where gunshots might ring out at any moment,
Suddenly, a series of urgent footsteps of canvas shoes on the floor sounded behind him.
Immediately, before he could fully turn around,
a familiar scent mixed with cheap body wash and the unique fragrance of a teenage girl unexpectedly broke through the air and surged into his breath.
A small, beautiful face suddenly filled Arthur's vision.
The face was so close that he could clearly see the trembling of her eyelashes.
Then, two soft lips with burning warmth pressed against his, awkward but firm.
It was a kiss without any technique, purely driven by impulse.
The slightly dry yet infinitely gentle sensation of the girl's lips exploded at his nerve endings.
But the heart-stopping feeling was so brief it seemed like an illusion, vanishing completely in less than two seconds.
Arthur stood stunned at the door frame. Gwen, who had stepped back half a step, her originally cold white skin was now flushed like a ripe apple, red all the way to the roots of her pink-gold short hair and ears.
Because of this bold move that crossed the line, she was even trembling slightly from nervousness.
In an extremely unnatural posture, she gripped the hem of her hoodie near the zipper so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
Those blue eyes, which usually saw everything as displeasing, were now filled with unreserved confirmation and dependence.
She looked at Arthur's dazed face and said, her voice trembling slightly from nervousness but with no intention of backing down, firmly word by word:
"Don't think about running away. I don't care what you think of me."
She took a deep breath.
"I'll work hard... I've decided on you."
Chapter 74: Regarding the Past (End)
Arthur stood dumbfounded by the doorframe, his mind roaring as if countless cement mixers were running simultaneously, and even his once smooth breathing got stuck in his throat.
That soft touch unique to a young girl still lingered on his lips, carrying a trace of bewildered dryness and awkward bumping.
When his tense nerves finally recovered a tiny bit of working capacity amidst the shock, his first reaction was to abruptly raise the back of his hand and frantically rub hard against his lips.
Then he instinctively turned around, grabbed the old brass doorknob, and wanted to run outside.
But before the door could be pulled even half an inch open, his wrist suddenly tightened, and Gwen's hand, usually used for playing the drums, had already tightly grabbed his arm.
Arthur was forced to stop and turn his head.
Gwen, standing in front of him, was breathing somewhat heavily, that dark gray oversized hoodie trembling up and down with the rise and fall of her chest.
That pair of blue eyes, which usually always exuded a hint of aloof and unrestrained coolness, were currently staring at him watery-eyed, the stubbornness and seriousness inside almost overflowing.
She had no intention of letting go at all, firmly clasping Arthur's wrist, and spoke word by word with a tone as serious as a verdict in a courtroom,
"You like me."
These four words caught Arthur completely off guard.
Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his whole body trembled violently, and he hurriedly shook his head like a rattle-drum, pouring words out of his mouth without even thinking, eager to clear up the relationship,
"I don't like you! You're overthinking it. I... I've always just treated you as an ordinary friend, I never thought in that direction at all..."
"No, you know that's not the truth. I also know you like me, I can feel it."
Gwen immediately spoke up to interrupt his pale and feeble denials.
She closed in by a step, giving him no room to retreat at all.
From the umbrella in the alley, to the sandwich in the convenience store, to the awkward yet never truly rejected acceptance every day at the construction site—that emotion growing out of the muddy ground, she knew it clearer than anyone else.
Arthur was instantly choked into speechlessness by these words.
He opened his mouth, only to find that the bad words usually used to brush off punks or banter with coworkers were all tied in knots on the tip of his tongue, unable to squeeze out even half a syllable.
Right in the gap of his daze, Gwen made a move he completely didn't expect.
The pair of hands grabbing his arm suddenly exerted fierce force, and taking advantage of this pulling force, more than half of her body crashed directly into Arthur's arms, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck like vines.
Immediately following that, she stood on tiptoes once again, closed her eyes, and fiercely kissed him.
Compared to that momentary dragonfly-touch-the-water kiss from just now, this time obviously carried a certain unreasonable tyranny.
Arthur suddenly widened his eyes, his eyes full of disbelief.
He subconsciously raised both hands, wanting to push away her shoulders.
Yet at the very moment he exerted strength to struggle, he truly realized just how outrageous the startling strength this girl inadvertently displayed usually was.
The harder he struggled, the more Gwen tightened her arms accordingly, hugging him even tighter.
That kind of force was simply not something an ordinary rock girl could possess.
Arthur even felt his ribs ache faintly from being squeezed, his whole body completely locked tightly in place, unable to move.
After a long while, just when Arthur was about to forget how to breathe, Gwen finally slowly loosened her arms and stepped back slightly by half a step.
At this moment, Gwen's entire face was blushing red, her chest heaving violently.
She raised her head to look at Arthur, her big blue eyes surprisingly veiled with a layer of mist, whether due to nervousness or holding her breath.
She bit her lower lip, suddenly switching to a pitiful tone, with a hint of an obvious cry in her voice, and said straight out,
"I am no longer pure, my first kiss has already been taken away by you... What, are you going to abandon me?"
Arthur petrified on the spot, his head exploding with a buzz.
He stubbornly never expected that the tsundere cool girl who always kept a straight face and ignored everyone normally would play this kind of unreasonable trick at this time without any burden.
"No... not like that... How can this be considered me taking it away? Clearly you leaned in yourself..."
Arthur incoherently wanted to defend himself, quickly shaking his head frantically.
But as soon as he shook it twice, he suddenly realized that if he shook his head to say he wouldn't abandon her, wouldn't that directly mean implicitly agreeing to take responsibility for her?
He abruptly stopped the movement of his neck, hurriedly wanting to change back to nodding.
But he immediately reacted again: nodding would mean agreeing with the scumbag conclusion "I want to abandon you", and the situation would only get worse!
Should he nod or shake his head after all?
Arthur was completely messed up, his two hands gesturing irritably in midair, and finally he grabbed his hair powerlessly, appearing extremely at a loss.
Looking at Arthur's flustered and comical appearance, the mist in Gwen's eyes receded a bit, revealing instead a trace of a shallow smile.
But she quickly reined in her expression, returned to seriousness, and said softly,
"I know that forcing you like this suddenly will make you feel very uncomfortable, and even want to run away. But, I really like you. I don't want to cover things up anymore."
The candor and directness hidden in these words pierced through Arthur's full heart of panic like a needle.
He put down his hands gripping his hair, exhaling a long breath carrying heat heavily.
He knew he couldn't continue to muddle through with that kind of running-away excuse. He had to widen the distance and handle it with a cool-down.
"Um..." Arthur took a deep breath several times, trying to make his voice sound a bit steadier,
"Can I calm down for a bit? The things that happened today are really a bit too much... My rigid brain really can't process it."
Gwen stood in place, quietly gazing into his black eyes filled with exhaustion and evasion.
A lengthy silence spread between the two of them. Just when Arthur thought she would lose her temper or continue making a fuss, she unexpectedly nodded gently and loosened her fingers.
That feeling of relief made Arthur not dare to stay for even a second longer. He turned around, grabbed the doorknob, directly pulled open this door that could trap him at any moment, and stepped one foot into the chilly hallway outside.
However, before his rear heel had time to step out, Gwen's voice rose by a few notches in the room behind him, carrying a kind of do-or-die determination.
"No matter what identity you have in the future, or whether you have money or not, I don't care at all!"
Arthur's footsteps paused uncontrollably for a moment.
Gwen's slightly trembling yet crystal-clear voice smashed into the empty hallway, forcefully catching up to him.
"After I graduate from high school in the future, I can go find a really awesome, good job, and I'll work hard to earn lots and lots of money. And you have to know, I also have a really great band. When we actually find a chance to debut in the future, we can definitely earn even more money. By then... even if you can't do anything, I can still support you, really! As long as you are willing!"
Arthur's stiff back suddenly shivered.
For a man who had just carried cement at the construction site for a whole day and whose mind every day was only thinking about where his next meal was, the impact brought by this sentence was far fiercer than a storm-like forced kiss.
He gave no response, only lowered his head, forcibly dragged that unmoving leg out of the door, and pulled the main door shut along the way.
With a soft "click" sound, the door closed, isolating that heavy sentiment on the other side.
Leaving only Gwen inside the house standing alone at the empty entryway, her hands tightly pinching the hem of her hoodie, biting her lip hard, staring blankly at that closed old wooden door.
After that sudden showdown, time passed day by day like this, and in the blink of an eye, some time had already passed since that night full of pink bubbles.
The daily routine in these half a month looked as if it was no different from before, but in fact, some invisible things had completely changed.
Like a programmed robot, Gwen would as usual bring the packed dinner every day to clock in on time at that muddy construction site, accompanying Arthur to sit on that tattered bench and finish eating.
Sometimes when she got off work early, she would even wait in the shade on the periphery of the construction site, watching him move bricks with his coworkers.
Arthur also no longer hid the moment he saw her holding a lunchbox like he did at the very beginning.
For this kind intention that filled his stomach and carried warmth, he silently accepted all of it unconditionally.
But whenever Gwen tentatively steered the topic back to the confession of that night, or stared at him with eyes full of anticipation demanding an answer, Arthur would always lower his head to shovel food, or shift his gaze to the midair full of scaffolding, brushing it off with a completely unoriginal phrase.
"I want to wait until the construction period of this brick wall is completely over and get the money before making a decision. Is that okay?"
For this excuse that was obviously stalling for time, Gwenagreed without hesitation every time.
She neither rushed nor made a fuss, not even revealing a trace of impatience, just quietly waiting.
Beneath this seemingly calm surface, the gears of time turned extremely fast. An evening approximately half a month later.
The construction site's bright incandescent floodlights lit up early, illuminating the cement potholes on the ground clearly.
Along with the last cart of waste being hauled away, the brick wall area that cost Arthur countless drops of sweat was declared completely completed.
The bearded foreman stood in front of a stack of neatly arranged building materials, calling over all the workers responsible for this area. The night wind blew past, whipping up a wave of earthy air carrying dry dust.
Placed by the foreman's feet was a dark old safe. He patted the thick outer shell of the box, cleared his throat, and shouted out.
"Alright, everyone quiet down. I won't say much nonsense either. Thanks to all the brothers for your company in the yard these past few months."
"I am crystal clear in my heart, quite a few of you can't find a good place to go because you don't have proper identities or have some other things on your records. That's why I'm willing to keep you right under my nose, giving you a chance to fill your stomachs and continue to survive."
The foreman crouched down and began fiddling with the combination lock on the safe,
"All extra polite talk is waived. Today is the day of settling accounts and sharing profits that you all have waited so long for. Next, whoever I call, step forward yourselves to collect."
After a few names,
"Arthur! Come over."
Arthur squeezed out from the back row of the crowd, walked up in front of the foreman, and stood still.
The foreman flipped open the safe, and neatly lying inside were stack after stack of bundled U.S. dollars.
That strong visual impact was undoubtedly the top-tier stimulation for these manual laborers.
Without hesitation, the foreman directly pulled out two considerable stacks of banknotes from inside, shoving them right into Arthur's dust- and callus-filled hands.
Then, he fished out a small, old-fashioned copper key from his mud-stained trouser pocket and slapped it hard onto the back of Arthur's hand, which was gripping the money.
"Take it."
The foreman looked at him, his tone carrying a rare hint of appreciation.
"To be honest, your growth and changes are plain for all of us to see. Although when you first started working, because of this small build, your single-session intensity couldn't match those big guys. But counting all your working hours and desperate efforts, you brat are definitely the craziest and best one in this entire district."
The foreman pointed at the key.
"So, this two thousand U.S. dollars in cash is your base wage plus commission. As for this key, it belongs to that small bungalow two streets to the west, and the note with the address is stuck right on it. Starting today, even that house belongs to your exclusively owned share. This is all hard-earned and what you deserve by risking your life."
Arthur was completely stunned. Looking at the stack of cash in his hand that was unrealistically thick, along with the rusted key representing a private residence, his heart was filled with sheer astonishment.
In his expectations, his life-risking way of working could at best only exchange for enough rent for a few months of food and clothing and a bunch of bad debts. So much? Enough to completely gain a foothold in this unfamiliar territory.
Just as Arthur was still in a trance, the foreman stretched out his thick arm and heavily patted his shoulder, waking him up.
"Alright. Stop dazing and acting blank here. Didn't you hear any movement outside?"
The foreman grinned, lowered his voice, and pointed toward the direction of the construction site gate.
"That little girlfriend of yours has been guarding and waiting for you outside for most of the day. Take the money that should be settled, and briskly go find her."
After saying this, the foreman turned around again, pulled out about a small stack of loose bills from the edge of the safe, and directly slapped them into the hand Arthur was holding the money with.
"Consider this as my uncle's private sponsored gift money. That girl is quite nice, running over here every day to deliver food without minding the dirt, and her eyes are full of genuine things. Kid, work hard, and don't fail her in the future."
After giving these instructions, the foreman turned to look at the remaining workers, continuing to shout out other names at the top of his lungs.
Arthur mechanically retreated to the side. The arguments and cheers erupting from the surrounding workers dividing the money seemed to have been pressed on the mute button at this moment.
He stared fixedly at the greenish paper bills slightly dampened by sweat in his palm, as well as the cold, hard metal key.
The weight attached to these completely destroyed his last line of defense constructed with "different identities" and "being a burden".
Bits and pieces of this journey flashed through his mind.
That girl who put on a brave front to protect him in the dark alley, that girl who stuffed sandwiches and bought coffee for him rain or shine every day, that girl who forcibly dragged him out of despair into her rented apartment, that girl who closed her eyes and fiercely kissed him on the lips.
All so-called rationality was utterly vulnerable in front of this solid warmth that could make a person survive.
Arthur clutched the money and keys in his palm tightly, turned around, and walked toward the construction site gate. His steps went from a hesitant slow walk to gradually becoming firm, and finally stepping out of the dusty area in large strides.
As soon as he went out, he saw Gwen leaning against the streetlamp pole. She was wearing her usual set of clothes today, lowering her head and boredly kicking the stones by the roadside.
Hearing footsteps, she raised her head.
The moment she saw Arthur walk out, without a word, she directly stepped forward quickly, bravely and extremely naturally linked her arm, and tightly hugged Arthur's right arm.
This series of movements was smooth and flowing like clouds and water, without any probing.
If it followed the rules and script set in the past half month, the moment Arthur felt his arm being touched, he should have immediately pulled it out mercilessly, and incidentally said a couple of cold, buzzkilling words.
But this time, he didn't make any extra moves, instead stopping in place.
His gaze lingered on the thick money and keys in his hand for a long time, falling into a deep silence.
Feeling that the atmosphere was a bit wrong, Gwen raised her head slightly, her face full of puzzlement.
She shook the arm she was tightly holding, and asked with a light voice: "What's wrong, Yu? Was the wage distribution not smooth?"
Arthur slowly raised his head, his vision crossing the surrounding dim yellow streetlamps, accurately landing on Gwen's eyes that were usually sharp but were now full of concern.
He gazed at her, his Adam's apple rolling once, and suddenly out of nowhere he uttered a very deflated sentence.
"But... for someone like me, even if I get this money, I might not necessarily achieve anything great in the future."
If this sentence carrying self-negation and escapist meaning were heard by another young lady, she would most likely flick her hand away in disgust and leave.
But Gwen just took a deep breath of the slightly dusty air there, without even blinking her eyelids, her tone extremely tough yet carrying a softness inconsistent with her appearance.
"I said it early on, I don't care about this kind of thing at all! At worst, just like what was said that night, later when I find a good job, I'll make money to support you. And..." She tightened her hands wrapped around Arthur's arm, pressing her face slightly closer, "No matter what others think, anyway I feel that you certainly won't let me down."
For this nearly blind trust, Arthur only felt his chest as if it had been heavily struck by something, aching and sour.
He averted his gaze, looking at the gravel on the roadside, and threw out a second reason that he thought could force the other party back.
"Also, just like what you've seen during this time... my brain is actually very stupid and rigid. I don't know a single sweet thing that should be said when dating. I won't even tell jokes to make girls happy in the future."
This time, Gwen directly chuckled softly out.
That laughter sounded crisp and pleasant on the quiet roadside.
She gently looked at his face that had become stiff due to extreme lack of confidence, as if completely ignoring the severity contained in this problem, answering clearly word by word.
"It's okay. Then won't it do if I try to lose my temper at you less in the future? Even taking ten thousand steps back, if I'm really, really angry, I'll also try my best to control myself, sit down and reason well with you, and communicate properly about the problems between us. I promise, absolutely not let you feel so tired because you have to coax me."
This understanding reply, which was completely unlike her usual arrogant self that could speak it out, completely sealed off Arthur's final retreat.
Arthur was silent for a very, very long time. Long enough that the waiting and tug-of-war of these past half months seemed to have vanished into thin air within these short few seconds.
Finally, he took a deep breath, gazed into Gwen's pupils, and asked the last question extremely seriously, almost using all the strength in his entire body.
"The gap between us is too big... Gwen, you've said these words so absolutely. Really, don't you regret it?"
Gwen stood in front of him, shook her head hard without any hesitation, and answered decisively:
"No! Although if we really calculate it, from the time we met until now, counting it fully, only about a month has passed. I know that saying such things under this premise sounds like a whim, a willful and reckless madman. But..."
Her expression became serious as never before, and her usual casualness vanished completely.
"However, my intuition is very sharp. My feeling tells me clearly and unmistakably that this is right. I know this reason sounds very mainstream and very unrigorous. But the problem is, aren't girls in relationships supposed to follow their feelings wholeheartedly like this in the first place?"
Saying this, she pressed her forehead against Arthur's shoulder, her voice becoming slightly smaller, but every word slammed down solidly.
"This isn't all impulse; I've also very seriously and soberly thought about all sorts of consequences for the future for a long time. But no matter how I want to weigh the pros and cons, the answer I can finally get will always be that only one."
"My feeling tells me clearly that I like you, very much, very much."
She raised her head again to look straight at him.
"What I am even more convinced of is that choosing to be with you, no matter how terrible and bad life I will face in the future, I will not regret it. Not for a single second."
A gust of evening wind swept timely across the empty street. Arthur stood in place, looking at those pairs of eyes reflecting the streetlamp's light, almost thoroughly clear to the bottom, his eardrums completely filled by her clumsy yet passionate confession.
Those long-pent-up self-loathing, unease about the future, and that hard shell disguised with indifference in his heart, at this moment, suddenly collapsed and shattered.
Arthur suddenly let out a long sigh, followed by a smile of complete relief gradually blooming on that face that hadn't truly relaxed for a long time.
That was the most sincere smile that laid down all heavy defenses and finally became willing to accept being loved.
He no longer struggled, neatly releasing both hands.
Casually stuffing that stack of life-saving money still exuding the smell of ink and that extremely important door key into the large pocket of his jacket.
Then, before Gwen could react to what he was going to do, he turned around and faced her.
This was the first time Arthur took the initiative in this long push-and-pull hiding.
He reached out his right hand, crossing that half-meter safe distance that had long spanned between them, and grabbed Gwen's slightly cool palm.
Without the slightest flinch, his five fingers naturally wove through the gaps between her fingers, gripping tightly, interlocking fingers.
The tactile sensation coming from the palm was so real that it made one want to shed tears.
Arthur tightened his grip on her hand, as if declaring sovereignty, and softly called out with a gentle and low voice rarely seen usually.
"Let's go, let's go home, girl."
Hearing this suddenly intimate and pampering nickname, feeling that sense of belonging carrying rough thin calluses yet extremely warm coming from the palm.
Gwen's pair of habitually tough big eyes instantly welled up with sparkling tears. She broke into laughter through her tears, heavily and forcefully nodding her head.
"Mm! Okay!" She counter-gripped Arthur's hand, responding loudly, "Today I'll listen to you! My boyfriend My Lord!"
Beside this most ordinary Brooklyn street, on a night that ended exhausting labor, in this World with nothing left like a complete mess.
The threads of fate belonging to these two souls struggling bitterly at the bottom of the mud finally tied a dead knot completely. Just like that, they were officially together.